“Cease called me. That’s actually why I came alone.”
“I’m not getting rid of my baby, Cyrus.”
“Is that what he said?”
“Yes, and I’m not doing that.”
“Let me talk to him. You know he’s an opportunist. If we get engaged first then announce the pregnancy, we might be able to get our own show. You know I’m all for making more money.”
I rolled my eyes. All Cy cared about was pussy and money. At least he didn’t go straight to the A word like our owner. Since Cyrus already knew about the baby, there was no use in going into a deep discussion. There was nothing to talk about. I was keeping my baby.
“Did you get my notes on the track?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah, I just didn’t get it. I really need to see what you’re talking about live though.”
“OK, let me show you,” I said, moving toward the soundboard.
Cy grabbed my arm to stop me. “You don’t have to be in a hurry to get to work. Your album just dropped, Carteay.”
“That’s what I came here for,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but I think we should talk first. How are we gon’ make a love song when we’re barely speaking?”
“We made two in the past when we were barely speaking. Let’s not pretend to be such good friends because we’ve beengetting along for a few weeks, Cyrus. I’m just trying to hold up my end of the bargain.”
He sighed before sitting down and patting the spot next to him. “Sit down. I’m trying to make it up to you. If we’re going to have a child, we need to be on more than speaking terms.”
I rolled my eyes and plopped down on the couch. “As long as you keep your promise, we’re good.”
“We’re not good if you won’t even talk to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re talking, Cyrus.”
“This is a lot for me. I don’t know about you. I need something to settle my nerves,” he said, standing and walking over to the bar setup in the studio.
Leave it to the powers that be to insist that we had all the drugs and alcohol we could ever want on the premises. They helped to promote creativity as they said. Cy dropped a block of ice in two glasses before adding brown liquor to each of them. I guess he didn’t realize I couldn’t drink. As bad as I needed something to settle my nerves and help me tolerate him, I knew better than to give in to temptation. Besides, my stomach was already in knots. I knew better than to add alcohol to the mix.
“I’m not trying to drink. My stomach feels crazy.”
“It’s your nerves, ma. I’m sure you’re probably anxious about the baby.”
“Exactly. I’m not supposed to drink, Cyrus.”
“Aww hell, I gotta get used to this baby shit. I was just thinking your nerves were about us being here together alone. It’s been a long time since you and I were alone. That’s why I booked the big studio for us.”
His phone rang, and he picked it up and walked over to plop down in one of the chairs in front of the soundboard. I almost jumped out of my skin when the door swung open. I usually locked the door when I was in the studio. I liked privacy when Iwas creating. I was pretty sure that I wasn’t slipping. I locked the door.
I should have known it was Ceasar’s sickening ass who’d come in. He had codes to bypass the locks on all the doors. It was crazy how bad I hated to see him coming. I regretted the day I won that contest and signed that fucking contract without having a lawyer present. I thought all my dreams had come true the day I won the Big Time Records showcase.
For years, my mom struggled to take care of me and my sister as a single mother. She gave us what she could, but even when I graduated and found a job, we could barely make ends meet. My talent got us out of the projects once and for all but landed me into another form of oppression where my record contract came with a clause that gave the label complete control over my public image. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they didn’t pick the world’s second biggest asshole to be my man. Even with Cyrus being somewhat human for a change, I wanted out.
I had been paying some overpriced lawyer five figures over the past couple of months to figure out a way to get me out of it. For all I knew, he had cut a deal with Ceasar’s conniving ass, because after all the promises and big talk about setting me free, I had yet to get any kind of progress toward my freedom.
“Ceasar,” I said, not bothering to try to hide my disdain for him.
“How you doing, pretty lady?”
“I’ll make it.”
